Water, gates and stock, checked without the drive. How remote stations use a small dish and one sensor to stop answering the same question every morning.
Tacos at camp usually mean three pans and a mess. This one is a single skillet over the coals, twenty minutes flat, and everyone builds their own.
Half a zucchini, a cob of corn and three eggs is all it takes to make a camp morning feel like a cafe breakfast. One bowl, one pan, twenty minutes.
The humblest dinner in the camp kitchen, done properly: snags browned on the flat plate, capsicum and onion softened in the same fat, bread to mop it all up.
Stone fruit season is short, and this is the lunch that makes the most of it: charred chicken and squeaky halloumi over rocket, eaten in the shade of the awning.
